


Interrogation

by Clarensjoy



Series: General: Post Canon [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Family Fluff, Gen, Molly Weasley POV, Post-War, The Burrow (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:40:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25182649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clarensjoy/pseuds/Clarensjoy
Summary: The Burrow is thrown into temporary chaos one morning, and Molly Weasley is determined to find the culprit.
Relationships: George Weasley & Molly Weasley, Ginny Weasley & Molly Weasley, Harry Potter & Molly Weasley, Hermione Granger & Molly Weasley, Molly Weasley & Ron Weasley
Series: General: Post Canon [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1903465
Comments: 16
Kudos: 86





	Interrogation

**Interrogation**

There was not very much in this world that could startle Molly Weasley. She had grown up with two boisterous brothers, given birth to two even more boisterous twins- among five other children- and had survived two wars.

But, she hadn’t had a situation like this to deal with for a while, and it seemed that the colour in her life, that in the days since the final battle had become somewhat subdued, seemed to finally be pouring back in- albeit it was largely fiery red in hue.

She stood, arms on her hips and at the head of the scrubbed kitchen table, eyes boring into the teenagers gathered around it, who were steadfastly avoiding her gaze.

Harry looked the most hopeless. Her eyes could not help but soften when she saw the mixture of confusion and guilt on his face. It was the type of expression that signified he was sincerely sorry for what had happened- but he didn’t really know _what_ had happened. There was an innocence there that told her he was not responsible for _the incident_ , but perhaps he knew who was.

Her daughter was trying to hold her gaze, defiantly staring back at her. She also had a hand resting on Harry’s thigh. Molly saw it squeeze lightly. She squinted her eyes at Ginny, she was perhaps her most devious and crafty child- a quality Molly had unfortunately passed on from the days of her own youth. No, Ginny could not be ruled out.

Her youngest son also looked somewhat confused. He sat tense, so different to his usual languid posture. He looked annoyed mostly, it was not beyond him to pull a stunt like this, perhaps he could be the culprit. She couldn’t be sure however; Molly wasn’t as good at reading him as she used to be.

Hermione’s eyes were dancing over the scene, glancing upstairs, to Harry, to Ginny, to Ron- settling on Molly for a second- and then repeating the cycle. Mrs Weasley had initially seen Hermione Granger- just twelve years old- as everyone else had; a swot who strived to follow every rule and regulation she possibly could. Of course, now she knew better. Molly only imagined what she could get up to with Ginny- combining her brains and Ginny’s knack for mischief- Hermione was just as capable as any of the four sat at the table.

‘So, no-one has anything to say to me then?’

All four pairs of eyes turned up to look at her. They remained silent. Molly sighed, if it was going to be that way, so be it.

‘Fine, clear off into the living room all of you,’ an audible sigh collectively left the mouths of the teenagers. How foolish of them.

‘But, Harry, would you please stay, dear?’

Ginny whirled around, while Harry paused mid-step on the way to the living room. Her daughter was ready with a retort, but Molly gave her a look that allowed no room for arguments. She heard Harry mutter that it was okay, and he turned around and sat back down at the table, expression open, nothing to hide.

Molly’s heart swelled, and she pushed back any thoughts of just giving him a big hug- it was hard- but she had to find the culprit for the most idiotic joke that had possibly ever been attempted in the Weasley household.

* * *

‘Are you okay, Harry? Would you like some water? A biscuit?’

‘Um, no thanks, Mrs Weasley.’

‘Oh please, Harry, you really must start calling me Molly.’

Harry swallowed but didn’t reply, she seriously doubted Harry would ever call her Molly, let alone mum, even if Ginny and he married one day- and their wedding would be so beautiful, she could really see it all-

‘I don’t know anything about it Mrs Weasley, really, I’ve been with Ginny by the pond the whole morning- I mean I don’t even know how- ‘

‘Harry, I know you weren’t involved,’ Mrs Weasley interrupted him, ‘I do think you know something though, situations like this don’t just happen by one person,’ she said, voice light and casual.

When she had first heard the resounding crack coming from the living room in the early morning, flashbacks to Hogwarts had flitted through her mind. Upon seeing the disaster that was what used to her living room, however, she was livid. To be honest, she hadn’t felt this much herself in weeks.

‘Well, I wasn’t involved, and I don’t think any of us ever said a thing, Ginny never mentio-‘

‘Harry, you and Ginny are very close, but I’ve known her since was a little girl, the things she can sneak under your nose…’ she ended up tutting and looking at Harry with a mournful expression. Harry’s face changed from an expression of confusion, to hurt, quite rapidly. Oh Merlin.

‘I mean silly things like jokes and whatnot Harry! Otherwise she’s a very loyal girl, best daughter I’ve ever ha- I mean, she- she’s not, she loves you very much,’ Molly grimaced as she fumbled over her words, perhaps it had been too long, she’s lost her touch somewhat- and they were moving off topic.

She looked out the window for a moment, gathering her thoughts. The yard looked peaceful as ever, betraying the chaos that had erupted in the house earlier in the morning. It was quiet and pleasantly warm, the orchard stood still and unwavering, hardly a breeze to be seen.

‘It’s just, Harry,’ she began again, ‘It all seems quite similar to something you’ve done before, Ron’s done before too- you know- _all connected_ ’ she whispered understandingly, coming to sit by him.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck, ‘Well I mean that was ages ago, I don’t see how they’re quite that connected either I mean, this was all on the ground and the gnomes have agency don’t they? They could’ve thought it all up on their own?’ He offered as explanation.

Molly’s lips thinned, this was certainly not helping, Harry was supposed to be the one who told her the truth from the start, and she was hesitant to press him further. He seemed quite genuine, but perhaps that was just the way she couldn’t help but view him. Her suspicion, however, was not appeased by his words.

She heard a shout from the living room, probably the gnomes getting out of hand again. She gave Harry one more long hard look and then stood up, ‘Tell Ron to come in next, will you?’

Harry could not have taken the opportunity to leave the interrogation sooner, he darted to the living room, disappearing inside. She reached for the jar of biscuits that resided on the kitchen shelf and placed them on the table, waiting for her son.

* * *

‘Seriously mum, don’t you think this is all a bit much? None of us know anything.’

A likely story.

Ron was sitting far back in the chair, arms crossed, and legs extended out in front of him. His eyes kept roving over to the jar of biscuits she had placed on the table. She smiled to herself.

‘Ron, I just want to know what happened, if you tell me now it’ll be fine, I just hate the part where you all think you have to lie to me,’ she shook her head, leaned against the counter and looked at him expectantly.

‘Mum, I’m not five anymore,’ his eyes went to the biscuits once more, ‘can I have one?’

‘Of course, dear, they’re freshly baked, made with love,’ she examined her fingernails, ‘just for you.’

Ron glared at her, but took a biscuit nonetheless, and started to chew on it defiantly, violently really. When was the last time she had had to tell her children off? It seemed a war had put a hold on any notion on what was allowed and what was not allowed.

Ron was almost nineteen years old though, two years into being of age. Perhaps she was overreacting? She hoped she had not been too hard on Harry. He was probably afraid of her now. Godric, what was wrong with her?

‘It’s a bit of a laugh don’t you think?’ Ron said, spitting some crumbs out onto to the floor, ‘I’ve never seen them that riled up, and they quite like the living room, I think they’re starting to nest in the chimney.’

‘Ronald Weasley! It is not a laugh! Or a lark, or a joke! It is a very serious matter and the whole family could have been grievously injured! When you father finds out- ‘

She was leaning over her son, finger extended, getting very close to her maximum temper. Ron’s unbothered demeanour had set her off, she was not overreacting! She was reacting perfectly normally, and it seemed no-one else was!

She was looming over Ron, who had slid down in his chair considerably, when the kitchen door opened, and her eldest son entered. He took in the scene before him and then leaned against the door jamb looking non-plussed. Molly took a step back from Ron and straightened her blouse, Bill frowned at this. He seemed to be keen on waiting for her to finish with Ron before getting to his business.

Molly would not offer him the satisfaction of watching his brother being told off though. She straightened up and walked closer to Bill. Ron took the chance to grab another biscuit and sighed a breath of relief.

‘The chaos is in there, Bill,’ Molly said, hands waving towards the door to the living room, ‘Ask the rest of the lot to help you, I’ve no doubt you’ll need it.’

‘Hello mum, lovely to see you too,’ Bill said, grin on his face. There was obviously still something very satisfying about walking in on a sibling receiving a good scolding, Molly surmised by Bills cheerful demeanour, never mind being a fully grown adult. ‘What’ve you done this time Ron? If I’ve told you once I’ve told you a thousand times, the gnomes just aren’t that into you. No matter how pretty they are, leave them alone.’

Ron turned to scowl at him, ‘It bloody well wasn’t me!’

‘-language!’

‘Mum’s just gone mental,’ he grumbled falling back into his seat.

Bill smirked, reached into the biscuit tin, ‘Ta,’ then left Ron to the wrath of his mother.

Molly rounded back on her son. New tactic in mind. ‘Harry told me some interesting things Ron, very interesting indeed,’ she paused, seeing if he would take the bait.

Ron scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest, ‘Harry didn’t say a thing. Harry doesn’t know a thing! None of us do!’

‘Fine! Hermione!’ Molly shouted, nearing the door to the living room.

‘Mum! She’s not your kid you can’t just- ‘

‘Then tell me why I have a caved in living room!’

‘-I HAVE NO SODDING IDEA!’

‘Well then maybe Hermione will tell me, she’s a smart girl, make sure she comes in next please.’

‘And Ginny?’

Molly did not give him a reply. Ron huffed out of the room muttering under his breath and slammed the door behind him. For a moment she heard a few raised voices in the other room.

Of course Hermione was next. Ginny was going to have to wait her turn, hopefully rattle her a bit more. She’ll probably most likely just be offended in some way at having been left last, but all the better, when their tempers got high it was very difficult to hold back words.

Molly readied herself for the next suspect, eyes focusing on the bushy-haired witch that sheepishly emerged from the door, shutting it quietly and perching on the kitchen chair.

* * *

Hermione, Molly was sure, was at the centre of the entire debacle.

‘Mrs Weasley I’m very sorry about the wall. I’ve been reading about construction charms though, with Hogwarts and all, and it’s very fixable. Bill already got a few pieces back together. The charms that were there in the first place were incredibly strong, did you do them? I read once that- ‘

‘-Hermione- ‘

‘-It is quite unconventional, the damage that’s been done, and when muggle items are involved it gets a bit more complicated- ‘

‘Hermione!’

The girl abruptly ceased her babbling, but the hand that had been nervously twirling a coiling strand of her hair increased its fretting, twisting into a braid. Molly sighed and went to sit next to Hermione, hopefully creating a sense of equality, this time she would get what she wanted.

‘Hermione, I don’t want to be the bad guy, but you can see how an event like this can’t just be swept under the rug and we never find out who was idio- ehm- silly enough to do such a thing. I just want the truth- don’t you want that too?’

Hermione’s eyes were pointedly fixed on her laces, her foot scuffed the floor. Molly could see her reasoning with herself in her head. She was so close, so very close. Then Hermione straightened up and looked her in the eye, ‘It’s just like Ron and Harry said, we don’t know anything Mrs Weasley, I hate to say it but, it could just be a freak accident. Or the gnomes are smarter than we think- which really, when you think about it- means it’s been quite cruel to fling them around all these years- ‘

‘Those gnomes are dumb as doorknobs, I’ve lived with them all my life Hermione, even as a Prewett. No, a witch or wizard was involved somewhere, and you know it.’

Hermione balked slightly at her rather sharp tone, but refused to offer up any more information. The din of the work of reconstruction happening in the room over was increasing and Molly was beginning to lose all hope that she would ever have someone to attribute the chaos of the morning to.

The four teenagers were as thick as thieves, if she couldn’t crack one, she was as unlikely to crack any of them. Her first mistake had probably been sending them all off into the same room, to get their stories straight. She had always separated the twins when she needed to find out about their antics…

A hand on her shoulder brought her out of her reverie, Hermione was looking at her with concern in her eyes. Molly moved away from the table and turned to face the window. She sniffed as she grabbed the kettle, then filled it under the sink and placed it on the stove to boil, heating it with a flick of her wand.

‘Alright Hermione, you can go, just ask Ginny to come in next, will you?’

Hermione looked reluctant to leave, like she wanted to say something, but she turned anyway, said a curt goodbye and slunk into the living room, calling Ginny’s name on the way in.

* * *

‘Ginevra Molly Weasley, this whole business has your name absolutely plastered all over it, don’t try to deny it, I’ve basically got the full story already, I’m just giving you a chance to be honest with me.’

Molly was leaning over her daughter authoritatively, trying to look imposing. This was not helped by the fact that Ginny looked keenly disinterested in her display of power. Eyebrows raised in slight amusement and eyes flashing.

‘You know mum, it’s really quite insulting that you won’t believe that we had nothing to do with this.’ She sighed and picked at a thread on her shirt, ‘Poor Harry, he looked ready to collapse after the ordeal you put him through.’ Ginny painted a dramatically woeful expression on her face and looked up at her mother, who was struggling between denying that ludicrous tale and running into the lounge to assure Harry that he was in no way in trouble and very much still loved by her.

Ginny quirked an eyebrow, as if daring her to cave in to that impulse.

‘No. Ginny, this has gone on far too long, tell me the truth or- or- I’ll never let you and Harry out of my sight again, never. I won’t ignore the times I know he’s in your room, the sneaking around at night- don’t get me started on the bed swopping!’

‘-Mum!’

‘-don’t “mum” me! I am being deathly serious Ginny- ‘

‘I’m nearly of age, so what! I’ll move out!’

‘Well I’ll be glad of that, then maybe we won’t have gnomes- ‘she waved wildly towards outside- ‘IN FLYING CARS- ‘her arms reached above her head and flailed madly- ‘CRASHING INTO THE BLOODY LIVING ROOM!’ She finished with her fists pulling down through the air. Her hair was flaming in all directions, she was breathing loudly, standing before her daughter who- only now- had seemed to grasp the intensity of her mother’s rage. There was a moment of shocked silence.

‘Bloody hell mum, since when did we allow language like that in this house.’

Molly whirled around to face George, who had just descended from upstairs.

Her temper was momentarily stymied by surprise, seeing her son in the kitchen for perhaps the third time this month. He looked different too. He was wearing a bright shirt that was freshly laundered, and, oddly enough, a flower stuck out of his ear, well, his ear-hole. What looked to be a cutting from her rose bush outside.

Molly stared at him, still quite short of breath. Ginny was obviously trying to stifle her laughter, and even mouthed an, ‘I owe you,’ to George behind her mother’s back. George assessed the situation, eyes moving from his mother, to Ginny, to the living room door, to the garage off the kitchen- the door was open and exhibited the fact that there was clearly nothing parked there.

‘No!’ he said, a grin spreading across his face. He took two long strides to peer properly out into the garage and then turned back to face his mother, impossibly wide smile- a smile both Ginny and Molly had not seen in months- on his face.

‘No!’

‘Yes,’ supplied Ginny, breaking her silence, which was impossible to hold while George was so obviously jubilant.

‘I’ve been teaching them, but I said we still needed a lot of time! Cheeky buggers…’ George laughed to himself and shook his head, smiling at the floor, but then he paused and looked at Molly, eyes wide, ‘That big crash. This morning...’

He was a deer in the headlights. Molly had regained enough composure for her anger to return, never mind she hadn’t seen her son like this in weeks, hadn’t even thought he was capable of such stunts anymore, he was a fool, and he was not exempt from her wrath anymore.

‘George Weasley, you best begin rolling up those sleeves, because you are going to be spending the whole summer in the garden, throwing gnomes over the fence.’ Her voice was low and her tone biting, she was past that stage of ferocity, into the most dangerous phase, when none of her children would dare try cross her.

George was still standing before the two Weasley women, the look of despair was slowly melting off his face though, becoming oddly mingled with an expression of pride. Eventually, he turned his attention fully on his mother, shook his head and then let out a chuckle.

‘I deserve it, I really do.’ He stepped closer to Molly and gave her a great hug, a real one. Molly’s throat tightened considerably, she fought back a sob, and then inexplicably, she laughed out loud. She laughed at the absurdity of it all, and it was infectious.

The rest of the party in the living room had entered the kitchen at one point, obviously curious about the laughter, and for a while, they stood there confused, yet sharing sheepish smiles at the sight of Mrs Weasley and George laughing, joyful again for the first time in what seemed like ages.

After a while, George patted his mother on the back, and retreated out the back door into the yard, mumbling about getting started on his work. Ginny was still chuckling to herself looking very pleased. Molly finished laughing on a sigh and looked at her daughter. Her eyes narrowed.

‘I don’t know why you’re laughing so much Ginny, I meant what I said earlier, you and Harry sneaking about,’ she teased.

Harry’s face went pink, Bill let out a bark of laughter, Ron frowned, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

‘Mum!’

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this, and I don't know if it's actually really boring?? But I wanted to post it anyway. I was having intense 'WELL IT WAZ ONE OF YEZ' flashbacks throughout the whole process of writing (which is a very dated reference, from a vine!), unfortunately, I cannot imagine Molly Weasley actually saying that. Would love to hear some feedback!


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